


A Mother's Nightmare

by vetech95



Series: Concepts [4]
Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26414434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vetech95/pseuds/vetech95
Summary: When you asked Belial to explain how his dream-walking-thingy works, you didn't expect to be taken for the ride.
Series: Concepts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1908931





	A Mother's Nightmare

"How do you do it? The whole," you gesture at him, "dream thing?" If you're making this scythe more than just a dark weapon, you need some understanding of how his finer powers work.

He hums, then moves to stand behind you. "Think of dreams like a fabric." His left hand graces your left side, settling with his thumb over the top of the braid on your Mark.

"Do you pull on the individual threads, or the thing as a whole?" His thumb lightly presses into you, almost perfectly tracing the wire-thin lines.

"As a whole." He reaches his right hand out, grabbing at the white space. You watch as it folds and buckles in his grip.

"Have you tried taking someone else with you?"

His hand on your waist slides to your belly. "It's easier if you're familiar with the dreamer," he pulls you against him, "but going in ones nearby is easy enough." He yanks on the fabric of the dream, and the white space gives way to a familiar place.

It's the old house, the first house, but with a much bigger you on a medical bed that's too small. Belial silently steps back, keeping you with him, as Mama frantically runs around. "There has to be something, I have to have _something_ ," she mutters. You notice the gaping wound in your chest and feel the blood drain from your face. Oh.

You quickly look around. Kaz is nowhere to be found though. No one is. There's a tightening around your belly. You must've taken a step forward. You step back, your back pressed against Belial's side.

Mama finds her lyre. She rushes to your bed. She sits down next to your legs. Her back is towards where you and Belial stand. She briefly grabs dying-you's hand and squeezes it. She hesitates when she lets go, only to pluck at the strings in her lyre. She quickly picks out a tune. You know it. Her voice sounds choked, like she's singing against tears. It's the lullaby she sings when you have trouble sleeping. She never really stopped. She always knew when you were awake, even if you never left your room. Mother's intuition, if you had to guess.

There's no Lyria on your other side, the way she was when you woke up. It's just Mama, crying as she tries to keep her child alive through a song. Unless you're already dead in this dream- no, this is her nightmare.

You can feel the tears trek down your face. It's been a while since you've let yourself cry. You don't move to wipe the tears. If you keep still, you shouldn't be noticed.

She finishes the lullaby, and starts over. Tears are nearly choking her voice. Belial's arm keeps you at his side in the shadows. 

She finally doubles over, her sobs filling the quiet room.

You see his hand out the corner of your eye, grabbing the dream.

She looks up, over her shoulder. At you. Belial quickly removes his hand from your side as she turns towards you. "Beau?" She scrambles up, racing towards you. She sends a quick glare at Belial as she pulls you into the light. You can see the tear tracks on her face as she traces yours with shaky hands.

You reach up to cup her face. "It's okay, see? I'm here now."

"How long were you watching?" She shakes her head, smiling now. "It doesn't matter." She pulls you into a hug, your face pressing against her clavicle. "You're safe now."

You return the tight hug as she presses a kiss to your temple.

You feel her tense in your arms. Her voice is low when she speaks. "I don't like him."

"I know."

She pulls back from the hug, her hands on your shoulders. "Are you sure about this?" Her eyes dart between yours.

You nod, an easy lie. You're not sure about most things when it comes to Belial.

She takes a breath, and nods. "Well, come on then, no point in leaving you two to stand in the dark." She quickly guides you to the small kitchen, ignoring the you still draped over the too-small medical bed with a gaping chest wound. You don't hear steps behind you. You look, and Belial's standing at the foot of the bed, his eyes roaming over the scene. "That means you too." Mama's voice is curt, but remains polite.

Belial looks up, a sheepish smile gracing his face. "My apologizes." What question was just answered for him? You try to not let that small fear overtake you, or analyse it too much in the moment. Can't have Belial know you're thinking, after all. You turn back to the kitchen as he walks in.

Huh. You never realized it before, but he's actually shorter than Mama. You stifle a laugh into a puff of air. Belial raises an eyebrow. You just nod to her as she rifles through the cabinets, not fighting the smile on your face. Her hands still shake though.

You watch as she gets a kettle boiling. "Shouldn't we be leaving soon?"

"Wouldn't that be rude to your mother?" Is he... teasing you?

You shrug, "She's used to it from me." Besides, you have questions that he won't want to answer in current company.

He returns your shrug, grabbing your waist and quickly tugging at the dream.

You're back in the white space now. He steps away.

You turn to face him. He gets up close and personal with your crew, but here he keeps his distance. "You said it's easier if you're familiar with the dreamer. Does this have to do with being familiar with the person themselves, or just their dreams?"

"A little of both, though the person matters more."

You nod. So it's a feeling thing.

The question you really want to ask lays on the tip of your tongue. How did he tack onto yours so quickly? Does he somehow sense the lack of life force? You squash down your curiosity. He won't answer those questions, and they'd give too much away. "How much of the fabric do you need to get into someone's dreams?"

"Just threads, really."

You nod. You'll have to work some subtly into the blade, then.


End file.
